King of Anything
by nlizzette7
Summary: On a drunken night, Chuck Bass reflects on his past, his future, and his love for Blair. When the flashbacks become too much for him to handle, he must face the one person that he's afraid of - himself. This takes place sometime in Season 4, during Blair's engagement to Louis. One-shot.


A prince.

As much as Chuck Bass prided himself on all the power and glory that came with his name, he merely ruled an empire. Chuck Bass was a king, but she didn't want a king. Somewhere, the love of his life as in the arms of a prince, existing in the midst of a fairytale.

The glass in his hand shook from his slow burning rage, the angst bursting from the core of his heart and spreading throughout the rest of his body. He sat facing his reflection, another shot of alcohol burning its way down his throat.

His consciousness was wearing thin. The lights in the room seemed to dim and brighten all at once. The silence was deafening, and the air was too thick.

As he perched in his seat, he felt _time_. He felt the years of pain, years of feelings, the years of Blair Waldorf swirling around him, against him, within him. The man in his reflection smirked at him and faded away, leaving the smell of leather seats and Blair's perfume in his wake.

"Are you sure?" The question echoed all around him before he felt it – the first time. Blair might as well been his first time. His first kiss, his first crush, his first love.

Just as quickly as the memory came, it went. Replaced by it were millions of flashbacks that threatened to overtake him. They consumed his senses until he was forced to feel what he had spent months trying to push away.

On his tongue, the bitterness of the drink in his hand washed away, leaving the taste of one hundred brunches he'd had with a family that was never his own. He tasted his sweat, his tears, his misery – until they were chased away by the pure taste of Blair's skin. Her lips. Blair.

Before he could relish in it, his nose was filled with the stale, sickly stench of the Intensive Care Unit. And then of the fresh dirt being poured over his father's casket. He smelled blood as he remembered it, on the night another Bass almost met his demise.

Deep within himself, he felt the faint touches of the girls he had been with. They were light flames compared to the explosion that Blair created each and every time.

When he heard the first words beckon to his ears, he knew what was coming. Blair's voice, poised and airy was intermingled with his own, sinister and rough. Together, they formed a song of sorrow. They were the lyrics of broken promises and years of waiting.

_You were great up there. Define like. You don't belong with anyone. Three words, eight letters. Say it, and I'm yours. We're holding on to the pain because it's all we have left. I love you. That's too bad. It's all a game. You're free to go. I love you so much it consumes me. I love you too. I'm not Chuck Bass without you. Are you okay? I am now. Goodbye, Chuck. It's not my world without you in it. I hate you. I love you. I do, I do. I need to find Blair._

He flinched as word after word, memory after memory reminded him of what was. He pried his eyes open, searching for his reflection in the glass again. He needed to escape. He just needed a second to breathe.

Instead, he saw Blair.

She was older, but there was no age on her face. It was the face he lived for, matured with wisdom, more beautiful than he'd ever seen it before. Beside her appeared his own face once again, also older, one of a middle-aged man who had lived life to its fullest.

The mirror's Blair smiled with pride and smoothed back a stray piece of gray piece of graying hair atop her husband's head. The other Chuck placed a light kiss on Blair's forehead and stroked the sparkling diamond on her ring finger, identical to the one locked in his safe at the moment. _We can build our futures together._

He watched, captivated by the fantasy playing before him. He wished she was here. He wished she could see. Suddenly, the mirror's Blair broke away from Chuck's embrace. Her face wrinkled in alarm as her body began to fade away. The other Chuck grabbed for her, only to surface with a handful of emptiness.

In Blair's place, a whirlwind of darkness arose. Chuck got up from his seat and stumbled towards the glass, trying to pull the vision back. Instead, he came face to face with the people he hated, the ones who had torn them apart, the ones who had broken everything. He saw Carter Baizen, arrogant and smirking. He saw little Jenny Humphrey, sobbing and dreadful. He saw his own uncle, Jack Bass, curling his lips in a sinister grin.

He saw Louis and Dan, the prince and the pauper, each perfect for her in their own ways. The closer they came, the harder it was to see his Blair. Instead, he saw a Blair in a floor-length ball gown, waltzing with the prince. He glanced at another Blair, sitting on Humphrey's sofa in the middle of Brooklyn, watching a foreign film.

And then it was all gone, leaving one last face. His worst enemy.

Chuck snarled at his own face, his eyes piercing black, his face crimson with anger.

"I'm Chuck Bass," he yelled out to the empty room. He lifted his glass in the air, and his fist shot forward. He barely registered the sting of glass piercing his skin. He was mesmerized as his reflection fell apart, shards falling all around him like rain.

"I'm Chuck Bass," he repeated to himself. "I'm nothing."

He dropped the destroyed glass in his hand, and a movement caught his eye. Stationed against the wood was a surviving piece of the mirror, reflecting a familiar figure standing in the darkness, watching him. He spun on his heel slowly, afraid it wasn't real. Afraid of disappointment.

When he met her eyes, his heart stopped.

"Blair?"


End file.
